The Rose and the Thorn
by Aradia-rising
Summary: Then we move on to New York.It's getting a bit hot for us here." The MacManus boys are in NYC, taking out the evil, business as usual. But not everybody shares their hours. What happens when the girl next door decides to do something about the noise
1. Chapter 1

So this is my first Boondock Saints fanfiction, hopefully someone enjoys it, and if you do, please review as I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story. So ideas, critiques, complements, all will be welcomed. Except flames. Flames will be used to makes s'mores.

* * *

A series of thumps woke Briar from her already fitful sleep. She looked at her digital clock and sighed. _2:37? When do they sleep?_ She thought, in reference to her neighbors, notorious for being loudly nocturnal. Briar covered her head with her pillow, but the raised voices permeated through the fluff. She sighed and reached blindly for the drawer handle of her bedside table. Pulling it open, she retrieved two earplugs which she sat up to insert. The blue neon light from the building across the street shone through the window, and she debated for a moment whether to take the seven steps it took to get to the window across the cold linoleum, or to simply roll over and go to sleep. Briar sighed again and covered her head with her down comforter, slipping back into a restless sleep, vowing to have a discussion with her unruly neighbors in the morning.

* * *

The sun shone through her open blinds, and Briar wished she had closed them the night before. A quick check of the clock made her heart rate increase for just a moment. _10:24_-_thank __G__od __it's__ S__un__day._ She rolled her legs to the edge of the bed and slowly bought herself vertical. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she made her way to the bathroom to shower. She had painted it a light daffodil yellow when she moved in, much to the dismay of the building manager, but Briar promised it would be an excellent selling point, and if not, she would paint it back to the bland white it was originally. Her love of color extended to her pink rose bedroom, her baby blue living room, and her pale green kitchen. She hummed to herself as she exited the shower and pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and a purple tank top, and pored herself a bowl of Special K with strawberries. After starting her tea maker, Briar hoped up to sit on her counter next to the sink below her kitchen window and watched the second round of churchgoers shuffle down the street. Setting her empty bowl in the sink, she dispensed herself a cup of peppermint tea and moving to her living room, switched on the News.

_"This __morning authorities have discovered the murder of three midlevel mafia bosses near Brooklyn Bridge. So far there are no suspects in the case, although many rumors have been circulated that these killings bear a resemblance to the Boston Saints homicides a few months ago."_

Briar switched off the TV and drained the last of her tea. She remembered the Saints story; she was in between jobs and watched a lot of TV between job interviews. _Speaking of jobs, _She thought_, I need to finish my piece on the Nesbit wedding…But first, the neighbors._ Steeling herself for a confrontation, she slid on her pair of sheepskin lined slippers and headed out the door and to her left. Taking a deep breath, Briar knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm glad I got a few reviews, they make me warm and fuzzy inside. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disapoint, and reviews are still very very welcome!

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Connor had just exited the shower and started his coffee when he heard a light knocking on the front door. Thinking he imagined it, he pulled his jeans on and flopped on the sofa. The knocking came again, louder this time, as if the person knocking was a bit surer of themselves. Connor silently made his way to the door, picking up the handgun lying on the kitchen counter as he went. He put an eye to the peephole, knowing that if it were someone that wanted to attack him or the rest of the men in the apartment they would have done so already. On the other side of the door, he saw a girl, clad in sweatpants, with her wet hair dripping onto the hallway's carpet. Connor sighed and tossed the gun into a drawer, unlatched the door. "Yes?" He asked lazily, standing in the doorframe. 

The girl sighed nervously. "Hi, I'm Briar Callahan, I live next door. Um, I was just wondering…I mean I don't exactly know what kind of hours you have, but I have a day job, and it's…well, when you come home so late, and so loud…it's kind of disturbing my sleep. And I've tried to ignore it, you know, with those white noise machines, and earplugs and sleeping pills, but I'm really having a hard time staying asleep when you're making so much noise." She finished quickly, talking more to her slippers than to Connor. She looked up suddenly, and flushed as her eyes moved up his body, passing over his bare chest. "So if you could just um, try keeping it down a bit when you come home late, that would be great." She let out a breath it seemed impossible to be holding, as it seemed she said it all in one breath.

Connor smiled "I'm Connor McManus", he said, holding out his hand to shake. "And I'm sorry; we'll try to be quieter. My brother, my Da and I work nights; we don't have any ladies telling us we're making noise, so we don't notice. Thank ya for letting us know." Briar placed her hand in his, and he marveled at how small her hands were in comparison to his. Softer too, and delicate, and unlike his he knew they were not capable of violence, no matter how necessary.

"Um, okay. Thank you." She seemed relieved and still nervous, all at the same time. She blew a hard breath out her mouth, pushing a wayward strand of hair out of her face, revealing blue eyes not unlike the sky on a clear day. "Well then, I'm sorry to have disturbed your morning- it looks like you were still getting ready." She said, turning a light shade of pink and her eyes glanced back down to his bare chest. "I should be going then, leave you to it." She turned to go.

"Wait; would you like to come in, have some coffee? Murphy and Da aren't awake yet, I could use some company." Connor wasn't sure why he extended the invitation; he just knew he wouldn't be able to sit in the quiet and empty living room this particular morning, and Briar seemed like good enough company.

Briar smiled. "I'm not a big coffee drinker, but I'd like that."

* * *

So how'd you like it? Connor sound good? I was a little iffy on him so any pointers would be welcome as well. Thanks in advance! 


	3. Chapter 3

Ta-Dah! Chapter 3! Unfortunately now I'm torn on the next chapter, so whoever reviews can decide. Should the next chapter have After Briar leaves from Connor's viewpoint, or while she's still there from Connor's point of view? Let me know, the review button likes to be pressed and finding reviews in my inbox makes me feel popular.

Oh dear, and I forgot a disclaimer didn't I? Well let's see... as much as I would love to have my own personal Connor and Murphy MacManus, I don't. Nor do I own anything really- so go ahead and try to sue, I don't have much to offer

* * *

Smiling slightly, Briar followed Connor inside, wondering why she couldn't stop looking at his chest. _I had to be a sucker for a great upper body. _She inwardly sighed, tracing the prominent muscles of his back with her eyes. 

The living room was sparsely furnished, with a couch frame covered in mixed matched cushions, a card table covered in pizza boxes and sheets of paper, a TV placed directly on the floor, and an enlarged bean bag. The kitchen was set up much like Briar's, with a small island in the center, and the gas stove across from the sink- filled with dirty plates surrounded by mugs floating with curdled milk and clarified orange juice.

"Like I said, haven't had many women taking care of us lately." Connor admitted, following her gaze. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter and took a sip.

"It's your house not mine."Briar shrugged, eyeing a saucepan dotted with fuzzy blue fungus "I never dust unless I'm having people over." She kept her eyes at his face, occasionally focusing on his left ear, wishing he'd put a shirt on.

"Dust? Ya'd be lucky to see us take out the garbage." Briar turned at the new voice to see another man grinning at her. While their eyes were the same, the second man was paler than Connor and his hair was several shades darker. She felt her eyes widen and then dropped her gaze to her feet. Was it really necessary for him to be wearing only boxers? _Whatever happened to pajamas?! _

He inclined his head in greeting then extended a hand to her. "Murphy," he said by way of introduction. "I'm this eejit's better half."

Briar took it and sighed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. _He would come out half naked. _She thought. _Because God wants to punish me for complaining about the noise by sending me hot neighbors. Just great._

"I'm Briar, I live next door."

"Briar's been saying we make too much noise at night, an we ought to keep it the fuck down." Connor told his brother, grinning mischievously.

Briar's mouth fell open. "I did not!" she cried, feeling her face heat up, "I just _asked_ if you would _mind_ keeping it down _a bit_"

Connor laughed as he poured a second cup of coffee, offering it to Murphy. "Ya know, pink's a good color on ya- matches your eyes"

Briar blushed further, as much from the comment as a mostly naked Murphy reaching around her to get his coffee. "Shove off Connor; you're embarrassing the poor lass."

Connor thrust the cup at him, spilling drops of coffee on the linoleum. "Me? Look who's talkin' about embarassin', runnin around the neighbor in yer underwear. Put some clothes on for Christ's sakes. "

"Hold this, would ya?" Murphy asked, handing the mug to Briar. Turning his attention to the living room he pawed though a heap of laundry, sending clothing in all directions. Finally with a noise of satisfaction, he held up a rumpled black tee-shirt and slipped it over his head with some difficulty.

"There, ya happy ya eejit?" He asked Connor, taking the coffee cup from Briar with a nod of thanks.

"You're lucky we've got company," Connor replied calmly, staring Murphy down "else wise I'd belt ya one"

Murphy scoffed "I'd like to see you try molly boy." His eyes widened as Connor dropped his coffee mug to the counter with a thud.

Briar giggled as Murphy backed up and took a fighting stance, grinning.

Connor lunged and grabbed him around the waist, heaving his brother onto the couch, which groaned under the weight. The pair began to pummel each other, but Briar noticed, with no real malice, although there were considerable words exchanged presumably in foreign languages. She turned towards the coffee pot and grabbed a mug from the counter, eyeing it first to make sure it was at least reasonably clean before pouring herself a bit of coffee.

"Hey! Thought ya didn't drink coffee?" Connor called from his perch on top of Murphy whose face was mashed into the bean bag.

He took the opportunity to slide out from under his brother and scramble to the kitchen "Who doesn't drink coffee?" he asked, looking stricken.

Another wave of heat rushed to Briar's cheeks. "I don't like the way it tastes," she admitted with a grimace "But I love the way it smells."


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so so so sorry to anybody and everybody that has been waiting for, I went off to a university and got quite depressed and pretty much lost my will to do anything, so I'm leaving next week and hopefully will get my soul back. I was going to be all geographically correct (no small task since I live on the opposite end of the country) but then as I was trying to make it work I realized that unless I was Irish Catholic and lived in an Irish neighborhood and went to all the churches around I'd probably not get all the particulars straight and no one would notice anyhow.

* * *

"Well, she seems like a nice lass." Da commented from where he stood in the bedroom doorway. 

"Aye," Connor replied, rubbing his shoulder, "she's from next door- we've been keepin her up at night. Surprised it took her this long to say somethin'"

Murphy slumped into the couch cushions, nursing his coffee. "She's too nice, did ya see her? Bet she'd do anything to get outta a fight." He took a drink from his mug then shrugged, "Not a bad looking bird though."

Connor bobbed his head thoughtfully "Aye, easy on the eyes. Not your type though."

"Oh, and she's yours?" Murphy grinned. "Thought you liked yer girls with plenty o' wobbly bits to hang onto. She's just over skin and bones."

"Eh she's got enough to hang onto. And you know what they say about the quiet ones- -"

"That's enough." Da interrupted, limping towards the kitchen. "Don't disrespect the lass, she's an innocent and doesn't deserve it."

"Fer Christ's sake Da, sit down- you just got patched up this mornin'." Murphy reached to pull the older man down with him.

Da swiped at Murphy, scowling, "I ain't sick and I ain't hurt." He wobbled a little and placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. "I just need some hard tack to take the edge off the mornin'"

Connor and Murphy shared a glance.

"Da, you were out cold for a half an hour."

"Aye, and it gave me a rest from you ducklings' nonsense." He uncapped a bottle of whiskey from under the counter and took a swallow. "Everything clean?"

The brothers nodded. "Are you sure you're alright Da?"

"I told you I'm fine, now get decent clothes on- we're goin' to church." He growled, hobbling back to the bedroom.

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Connor peered over his sunglasses, watching through the window as his twin follow their father into the church, keeping a safe distance from the older man and himself. He hated that they had to separate like this, but now that their sketches were out, their identities were no longer safe.

_We're being treated like criminals. _He thought angrily, rising from the diner booth and paying for his coffee. _Like __fuckin__' common criminals._

The church was like any other Connor had been in, high ceilings, dark polished woodwork, and the extraordinary sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Sliding into an empty spot in the last pew, he bowed his head and began to pray.

He prayed for all the blood he spilled, and that He would send the men that Connor, Murphy and Da had killed to their proper resting place. he prayed to keep his mum safe, and for Rocco's soul, and that people would turn away from wicked paths and become righteous men once again.

_And __shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord for thee._

_Power have__ to send it forth from thy hand,_

_that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command._

_So shall we flow a river forth to thy,_

_And teeming of souls shall it ever be._

_In nomine __Patris__, et __Filii__, et __Spiritus__ Sancti_


	5. Chapter 5

So I was going through my documents and look what I found? If I get some feedback I'd be happy to continue! I just sort of lost my muse.

* * *

…_Memorably, after sharing their first kiss as husband and wife, Shari and John created a conga line and danced their way out of the church._

Briar sighed and stared at the blinking cursor, willing it to create words that would be the perfect way to describe last night's off the wall but extremely entertaining wedding.

_The reception was beautifully decorated with tropical flowers and palm trees, giving an private island feel to the industrial space_

"Knock knock, anybody home?" a feminine voice followed the sound of a clicking lock. "I brought Chinese."

"Hey Jess, drop it on the counter- I'll be done soon I hope," Briar sighed and rested her head on the arm of her couch, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

"I got enough for three." Jess' voice dropped desperately. "Please tell me you met a hot and desperate brother of the bride who will be coming out of your room with a towel slung low on his hips, raring for another round."

Briar snorted "Jess, I was there for work. I had a grand time inspecting the food table and asking the band about the music selection. No drunken groomsmen, depressed ex-boyfriends, or Viagra popping old men. Sorry"

A fortune cookie flew across the kitchen. and landed on her head "Don't knock Viagra. It'll save your marriage one day."

"Assuming I ever get married. God, you're such a distraction! I give up." Briar swung her legs off the couch and left her laptop on the coffee table. "Mmm, spring rolls, Buddha's delight, house fried rice- why do I need a boyfriend when you bring me such great takeout?"

Jess snapped apart a pair of chopsticks and grinned. "Because darling, I've got a date Saturday night. No Sunday Chinese lunch duo next week."

"Oh my God, already?" Briar stopped halfway to the kitchen table. "Have you picked out your walk of shame outfit yet?"

Jess elbowed her in the side. "Oh, ouch. Just because some of us are in touch with our inner sex kitten doesn't mean you have to be bitter." She shoved half a spring roll into her mouth. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Briar slyly looked away. "Nope, nothing."

"But…."

"Well I finally met my neighbors this morning. Two brothers." Her face felt hot again.

"Aaannd…."

"They said they'd try to be quieter, that's all."

Jess raised her eyebrows. "That can't be all-otherwise you wouldn't mention it. Don't try to fool me; you know I can read you six ways to Sunday."

Briar silently debated telling her the whole truth about the neighbors. _The guys that live next door are what Abercrombie models want to grow up to look like, and they're brothers. And they have amazingly sexy Irish accents. _"They were nice, that's all."

"And by nice you really mean gorgeous." Jess popped a spring roll into her mouth and gently shut Briar's gaping mouth with her chopsticks. "I told you, you can have no secrets from me. Unlucky for you I'm interested this time. So," she continued, chewing thoughtfully "They're gorgeous, presumably single since who lives with their brother if they have a girlfriend?"

"Plus they were at home on a Saturday night. " Briar added, scooting the fried rice box closer to her. "If there's two of them, what kind of chance do you think I have?"

"That depends. Did you go see them wearing that?"


	6. Chapter 6

I'm Back! I'm kind of at a loss where to go with this story so if you like it and want to see more suggestions (even plot bunnies) are very welcome!

It was nearly a week after their first encounter that Murphy saw 16E again. Although that wasn't strictly true; he had seen her coming and going while he and Connor propped themselves against the brick wall of their building; this was just the first time 16E had a name and a face. She was weighed down with two bags of groceries on her right arm, three on her left and was swaying a little with the unbalanced weight. As her purse slipped off her shoulder and a large chunk of brown hair fell into her face the sudden hunch in her shoulders spurred Murphy into action. "Ya look like you could use some help!"

Her head snapped up from her keys "Oh hi Murphy," her exasperation giving way to a friendly smile, "That would be great. If you wouldn't mind opening the door?"

He hooked the key ring onto the tip of his index finger and eased the bags off her arm disregarding her protests. "O' course. Ya don't think I'd let you carry all this by yerself?" He unlocked the building door and held it open as she ducked under his arm. "The lift's out again, we're gonna have to take the stairs. I can get the rest of those off yer hands if ya like."

"I'm okay for now, I may reconsider by the next floor though." She quirked a crooked smile at him.

He bowed a little and motioned for the stairs. "After you." He took the opportunity to check out her rear end as she trudged up the incline; it was relatively round and perky, he'd probably rate it a 7 out of 10. As she reached the first landing he revised his score to a solid 8 and chuckled at her sheepish smile.

"Would you mind taking one more?" She shyly held one of her bags. "I'll trade you for the keys." She offered in a sing-song voice.

He nodded. "Why of course." He hauled a third bag onto his arm and slipped the keychain back onto her finger. Again he brought up the rear, and waited patiently for her to find the right key to her apartment.

With a relieved sigh she swung open the door, revealing a cleaner and nicer smelling copy of his apartment. Their kitchens were probably back to back, and he guessed the hallway peeking from the rear of it led to a bedroom and bathroom just like his. Her furniture was calming grays and greens, nothing overtly feminine but still clearly not a bachelor's pad. Her dishes sat drying on a dish rack, and the counters were empty of clutter, making it easy to unload the bags. "Thank you so much." She panted, "It would have been hours before I made it up by myself." She chuckled breathlessly, pulling eggs and milk from the plastic and pulling the refrigerator door open with a spare finger. The contents in her grocery bags didn't resemble anything he'd been eating lately. He spotted whole-grain bread, salad mix, fruits and vegetables of various shapes and colors and a bag of frozen chicken breasts as he unloaded his arms and began to empty the bags onto the counter. "Oh you don't have to do that." She protested, surprised. "I've got it from here."

He shrugged, continuing to pull the delicate plastic bags out the larger ones. "No problem. No pressing appointments." He grinned, holding up a loaf of thick crusted bread in one hand and a jar of tomato sauce in the other. "Making dinner for a lucky man?" He quizzed mischievously.

She ducked her head as she took the items from him and put them away, turning pink. "No, just me." She seemed a little uncomfortable and Murphy dropped his teasing tone.

"Well if you ever need company, the McManus men are always up for a good meal."

She graced him with a small smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Maybe if you keep it down at night," she shot him a sly look, "I'll bring you something."

_She had a little spark._ Murphy thought, mentally tipping his hat to Connor who had, in his own way, predicted a fiery streak.


	7. Chapter 7

Look at me go! I'm not super confident about this chapter, but I did have a question for whoever's still reading and reviewing. Are we feeling a romance? And if so, with who?

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She wanted to take it back the moment she said it, but Murphy's raucous laugh had her grinning; half in relief and half in the thrill that he had gotten her joke.

"I'll pass the word along." He nodded, placing the empty bags inside each other.

Briar fought the urge to twirl her finger through a lock of stray hair nervously. "So what do you guys do?" She leaned back to rest her tailbone on her top drawer.

Murphy rested his hip against the counter and scratched behind his ear. "Security." He cleared his throat. "Nightclubs, you know."

She nodded. _The hours make sense now_. "Must have pretty good job security in this city."

"Aye. What about you?" He tilted his head curiously.

She felt her cheeks heat up. "Oh. I- uh write for the Mirror." Her eyes fell to the towel rack below the counter.

"Really?" She met Murphy's interested gaze. He had leaned onto the counter, elbows propping him up. "What do you write about?"

Her fingers crept into her hair unbidden. "I cover weddings." She admitted, the heat spreading down her neck.

"Really?" He looked genuinely curious. "How many do you do?"

She was surprised at how at ease he was with the concept. She found most people reacted in the extreme when it came to weddings; either adoring or resenting the entire concept. "Um, well I go to one a week; I do interviews with the couple beforehand and usually the article's out by the next week's edition."

"What's it like? Getting dressed up like that all the time?"

She smiled. "Well I have a designated 'just-for-weddings' dress so it's not nearly as glamorous as it sounds." She assured him. "The weddings themselves are fun though- all those Kodak memories being made. And the interviewing's easy; brides love to talk about their weddings."

"Aye, bet ya can't get them to shut up." He grinned widely. "Ever deal with really mental brides?"

She chuckled, thinking of a few of her Park Avenue Princesses who thought she should be lucky to have had the opportunity to interview them. "Sometimes. The worst part is trying to be objective about their weddings, no matter how rude they are."

"Well, I can't say I ever read it," Murphy admitted, "but I bet yer good at it."

She felt her face heat up. "Well I've only been at it a few months; it was a foot in the door."

"Oh?" he was rubbing his fingers over each other. Briar wondered if he needed another cigarette.

Her fingers combed through her hair. "Yeah, I'd love to cover something a little more serious then flower arrangements and china patterns. Maybe politics eventually." She shrugged. "I'd settle for the arts for the time being. And then there's every journalism student's dream of becoming a big shot, covering revolutions and interviewing presidents." She laughed a little, tugging on her hair gently. "But I'm really lucky. Most of the people I graduated with are still interning or are stuck being assistants."

He grinned. "Well then ya must be good!" he exclaimed, glancing behind her head at her big yellow clock.

She followed his gaze. "Are you working tonight? Don't let me keep you." As nice as Murphy was, he still made her nervous, and she didn't want to come off as the weird clingy neighbor.

He scratched behind his ear again. "We've got a job; don't have to be there for a while yet. Connor's supposed to be back soon though."

"Well I did buy some of those gross looking wax earplugs, just in case." _Why did I just say that?_ She felt her face heating up and bit her lip. _Now he knows I'm a complete idiot._

To her surprise he looked guilty. "Sorry 'bout tha'. We're gonna try an' be quiet when we get back. Shouldn't be til mornin' though."

"Well don't worry about it; I heard they block noise like nothing else." She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a small smile. She walked him to the front door. "Thanks for the help." She offered.

He leaned against the wall between their apartments, facing her. "O' course. If you've got any leftovers…"

"I'll know where to bring them." Briar finished, laughing a little.


End file.
